Chronicles of a Future Heartbreaker
by Sequelized
Summary: Marlene Wallace, future heartbreaker, has AVALANCHE and the Turks wrapped around her little finger. Yuffie, of course, reaps the benefits.
1. Not Your Average Punishment

**Title: **Not Your Average Punishment

**Rating:** K

**Genre: **Humor

**Summary: **Vincent Valentine's past sins have finally caught up to him.

**A/N:** Chronicles of a Future Heartbreaker takes place after Advent Children but before DoC.

* * *

Vincent Valentine had always known there were some tasks that weren't as simple as they're made to be. He just hadn't experienced said 'easy difficulties' until Tifa invited him to spend the afternoon at Edge's newest attraction.

_How did I manage this?_

The colors swept by: pink, blue, green.

_What unbeknown fate have I assigned myself?_

Giggles echoed, one after the other. A crescendo that attested his plight.

_...Those eyes can't be trusted. _

"Okay, your turn!"

Was this the penalty for isolating himself from his friends? Vincent closed his eyes. Perhaps... Nothing could be as cruel as this. Though had he been aware what _type _of place it was, he would have made a greater effort in declining the barmaid's offer.

"Duck, duck, duck... goose!"

Marlene tapped his head and darted around a group of giggling children sitting in a circle. Vincent rose, just as he was shown by the group earlier, and trailed the girl. No words could ever convey how ridiculous he felt.

Yet if some person happened to ask him how he came to participate in such childish games, he would say it was the doing of one doe-eyed six-year-old.

Because the reality was, he hadn't stood a chance against Marlene Wallace.

And he suspected she knew it.


	2. Yuffietastic

**Title:** Yuffietastic

**Rating: **T (one curse word)

**Genre:** Humor

**Summary:** Yuffie shows Marlene the ninja way: Blame Reno.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own FFVII or any of its compilations. I just enjoy torturing its characters :D

* * *

"Her feet are braced too far apart."

Yuffie scowled and corrected Marlene's stance, _again_. She was starting to get annoyed by the constant, 'Her legs aren't bent properly,' and 'Her fists are too high.'

Since when had Vincent become an expert in ninja arts? And what the hell was he doing hanging out with her? He was supposed to be in a cave somewhere, crying about a dead woman that'd had crappy eye vision (because she knew for damn sure no woman that could see would choose a psycho geek over a hot vampire).

No, she wasn't just being bitchy for no reason. There was just cause for her attitude!

Marlene asked _her_, the last descendent in a clan of true ninja, to show her their ways, not Vincent. Plus, the gunslinger didn't know the first thing about jiujitsu. So unless something along the lines of, '_Oh Yuffie, your awesomeness blows me away. Let me worship you,_' came from his mouth, she didn't want to hear it.

"We're about finished for today, young grasshopper." Clapping her hands on either thigh, the Wutaian sprung up from her crouching position. "And what do we do if we get caught?"

"Blame Reno!"

Yuffie grinned. "Yup. You're gonna make one badass ninja."

"You mean I'll really be one?" Marlene asked excitedly.

"If you train hard enough, yeah."

"Just like you!"

"Whoa now, don't get ahead of yourself."

The girl gave her a curious look.

"Don't feel bad, kid. No one has anything on me. I'm just super-awesome like that. Right, Vince?" Yuffie didn't wait for his answer. "Oh! Almost forgot. What do we do if blaming Reno doesn't work?"

"Um," Marlene's brow furrowed in concentration, then cleared in the next instant. She smiled happily. "I know! Give them the eyes!"

Grinning again, the ninja looked at Vincent, who eyed her suspiciously (big WOW on his emotion scale, by the way!). Obviously, her apprentice used 'the eyes' for something other than getting out of trouble.

The ninja's grin widened.

_I know about it, Mr. Goose._


	3. Mr Honey-fufu

**Title: **Mr. Honey-fufu

**Rating:** K

**Genre:** Humor

**Summary: **Cloud regrets not finding a better hiding place.

* * *

Mondays were Cloud's day off from the delivery business. Usually he spent it helping Tifa by taking the kids to school and cleaning the Seventh Heaven. But this time, his routine had been interrupted; he'd spent most of the day in the closet, hiding.

Hiding from the worst, most terrifying thing to ever exist in the planet's history. Ruby Weapon didn't even hold a candle against it.

The blond warrior didn't know how long it would be until he fell victim to it.

The closet door opened slowly, showing Tifa juggling cleaning supplies. The martial artist jumped when she noticed something other than mops and brooms occupied the small space.

"Cloud!" she gasped, placing a hand over her heart, "I thought you were some drunken pervert, like Reno-" She paused and tilted her head. "Why _are _you in here?"

He put a finger to his mouth. "Ssh. Marlene will hear you."

"Found you!"

Too late.

"Now we can play," the little brunette said cheerfully.

Cloud suppressed a groan as she pulled him past a bemused Tifa, straight toward the worst, most terrifying thing to ever exist in the planet's history that even Ruby weapon didn't hold a candle against.

Her tea set.

It sat in her room, horrifyingly sparkly pink, on top of an equally petrifying play table. All her stuffed animals were positioned around the tiny furniture, each wearing fancy clothes. Marlene addressed one stuffed animal with a top hat and suit, adopting a hostess-like air.

"Remember Mr. Honey-fufu? Papa got her specially made for me. Hi," she said, pretending the bunny was the one speaking. "Say hi, Cloud," she added in a whisper.

"Hi..."

"No, Cloooud, say his name," the little brunette pouted, adult demeanor disappearing.

"Hi... Mr... Honey-fufu."

Marlene thrust the tiny bunny arm toward him. "Shake his hand."

"W-wha...?"

"Vinnie says it's polite to shake someone's hand when you meet 'em. You and Mr. Honey-fufu met so now you have to shake hands."

She said it with such certainty that Cloud knew there was no way he could avoid this without getting lectured.

Yes, the great Cloud Strife lectured by a kid.

Tifa could rub off on people.

Gathering the nerve, he took the tiny stuffed bunny's hand, hesitated, then shook it. This was right up there with Aeris making him wear that dress...

And wig...

And heels...

"Now you're friends!" The girl giggled, and then said pleasantly, "Please pour the tea."

She looked at him expectantly.

Cloud looked at the doll.

The doll didn't pour the tea.

Sighing, he lifted the empty flower-printed porcelain teapot, and, with growing mortification, 'poured' each 'person' some 'tea,' while minding Marlene's warning to not let the cups overfill.

She thanked him, then began a conversation with the stuffed animals seated at the table, including him every so often. He nodded dutifully.

Twenty minutes into the party, Cloud was convinced she knew how to use Manipulate Materia. But after covertly scanning her, that speculation fell flat. Though, it wasn't long until another formed.

_Maybe it's the old-fashioned kind._

Materia or non-materia, next time, he would make sure to go to work when she had the day off from school.


	4. What Not To Tell A Six-Year-Old

**Title: **What Not To Tell a Six-Year-Old

**Rating: **T (It's Cid. Cursing is unavoidable lol).

**Genre: **Humor

**Summary:** Cid learns what not to tell a six-year-old the hard way.

* * *

Kids were trouble, plain and easy. They pretend they didn't hear what you said, when they heard everything. They cried and threw hissy fits when they didn't have their way and did whole loads of other annoying crap. But only one had a habit of sneaking up on people _and _staying hidden.

Sweating bullets, Cid pulled out a cigarette and lit it (ignoring the fact that he was already smoking two). His tension built as Marlene skipped between the tables of the bar repeating every curse word that'd left his mouth minutes earlier.

"F#$%. Shit. Damn. Hell. Crap. Ass. Sonuva bitch."

The only person who knew about it was the brat, who was laughing her butt off.

Wiping at an invisible tear, Yuffie sighed. "I don't know what's funnier: Barret busting a cap in your ass when he finds out, or that she learned all those from _one _of your sentences."

She started hollering again.

Cid glared at her. One sentence, his ass! Shit, if it was up to the damn brat, she'd point at him as the son of a bitch teaching Marlene crap that he sure as hell didn't have any f#&%ing part in!

"Screw that, it ain't my fault," he muttered.

"Screw that!" chirped Marlene.

"Screw that!" grinned Yuffie.

"Shut yer traps!"

Both brunettes watched him with wide eyes, but Cid wasn't fooled. They were hassles, and once they started acting suspicious they couldn't be trusted.

Yuffie opened her mouth.

"Shut up," he ordered gruffly.

"What, Cid, you wanna help expand Marlene's vocabulary some more?" The brat snatched a notepad off the counter and handed it to Marlene.

"He does," the younger girl nodded. She looked at the brat. "Should I tell daddy he's gonna teach me how to spell new words?"

"Yeah... unless there's a little..."

"...competition."

"Compen_sation_, Marlene," Yuffie corrected. "What do you say, old man?"

They were working him. Hell if he'd let them get away with it! Cid took drag of a cigarette and called their bluff. "Barret ain't gonna believe you two brats."

The ninja shrugged. "Your choice, but you should know, Barret don't pity the foo who teaches his kid cuss words."

So they finally pulled out the big guns. Barret installed new features in his damn gun arm recently. Cid didn't want to be the first thing he practiced them on.

"Name yer price," he said, begrudgingly.

Yuffie looked at Marlene. The younger girl smiled pleasantly, "Weeell... my bunny said he needed some new clothes."

"_Ahem_."

"Oh, and some mastered materia."

Cid jumped out of his seat. "Yer outta yer fu- freakin' mind."

Yuffie smirked, "Barret's gonna bust a cap in your ass."

"Right on the ass!" mini-brat added.

"Marlene!"

Cid caught the cigarette (cigarettes) that dropped out of his mouth at the booming voice.

Yuffie froze and Marlene hid behind Cid's leg. They all stood motionless, quietly anxious, as Barret clomped through the bar, anger radiating from the entirety of his six-foot-five-inches frame.

Crossing his arms, the girl's father gave her a stern look. "Why're you usin' that word?"

"I heard it," she answered, dull and resigned.

"From who?"

Tears in her eyes, she raised her head and gave a wobbly smile.

"Reno."


	5. Downside of Playtime

**Title: **Downside of Playtime

**Rating: **T

**Genre: **Humor

**Summary: **Reno deludes himself with thoughts of grandeur.

* * *

Enjoying a cigarette, Reno, badass Turk and lady-killer, watched the bustle of Edge's streets from the Seventh Heaven's front door steps. It was just another day of being every woman's sex-god and gracing people with his magnificent presence.

So, when someone actually dared to touch his glorious self, he couldn't fathom why they had no offerings in hand.

"What's wrong with your eye?"

Reno looked down to where he heard the voice come from.

Barret's kid pointed at his eye, repeating, "What's wrong with your eye?"

* * *

"_Yo, Turk! Running your bad mouth around my baby girl again?"_

"_She talks?"_

_A fist flew at him._

_He involuntarily fell asleep._

* * *

"I fell."

His answer apparently needed no further elaboration, because the kid had already moved on to the next question.

"Play with us?"

"Go bother someone else. I'm busy."

Of course, by 'busy,' the Turk meant taking his customary fifteen minutes of Reno Time so everyone could bask in his godliness and ponder in awe if it was even possible to be as kickass as him.

"We need another person," the pigtailed girl persisted. Orphan-boy standing next to her nodded.

"For what?"

"To play jump rope, silly!"

Reno stared at her disbelievingly. "The Cat-Sith thing's inside. Go ask it to play."

"But we wanna play with someone _cool_…"

The ego stroke magically dissipated Reno's opposition.

Putting out his cigarette, he issued his only warning, "Leave me alone after this, got it?"

An eager nod was her response and, in the next moment, she grinned and offered the end of a rope to him. Reno grabbed the cheap yellow plastic handle with barely disguised disgust. "Now what?"

"I tie my shoes," she explained happily, and then did so.

Not exactly known for his patience, the sole adult in the vicinity (or someone who liked to think he was one) scowled as Barret's kid sung a song to guide her through the process.

Her small voice finished on a giggled, 'Bunny ears!'

"Done yet?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Another nod, then a tiny hand was thrust out, palm upward, as a wordless request for the rope's end. Without a thought the Turk hopped on the chance to get out of his current situation and back to playing Adonis (a better, hotter, and perfect version of him, of course) and handed the yellow colored plastic to her.

Somewhere beneath his (dozens, possibly thousands) layers of conceit, he felt sorry for what's-her-name. If having someone hold a rope for her was playing in her mind, then she obviously chose the wrong person to idolize. The closest Spike had ever got to fun involved safety scissors and a coupon book.

The kid needed an idol worth idolizing. Someone that deserved it.

Someone like himself.

Turning from self-centered thoughts, the Turk realized that his possible future worshiper was speaking.

"Not there. _There_."

She wanted him to do the jumping.

Reno suppressed a shiver.

"Please, mister?" her boyfriend added.

Barret's kid grabbed his hand and pulled. Reno (for some reason that had nothing to do with the girl's endearing smile) let her guide him to the spot. After she took her place, the two kids swung the rope immediately, leaving him no choice but to go along with them.

They sang in unison, "How many boyfriends do you have? One, two, three—sing it!"

He stopped jumping, "Hell no."

A pair of big brown eyes began to water.

"Don't bother." He wasn't caving in that easily. Years of dealing with Elena's PMS was enough for him to build an immunity to tears.

She sniffled.

He became unsure.

A whimper followed.

Reno glanced around nervously.

A sob.

A premonition of another fist headed for his beautiful face flashed through his mind.

"Okay, okay! Just—no crying, got it?" he relented. His good looks must be protected _at all costs_!

"Got it!" the girl agreed, then skipped to grab the end of the rope.

_What the hell…?_

The Turk shook off his confusion and checked the area for any person that might be lurking in the shadows. Nothing.

Deeming it safe to continue, he started jumping once more and recited the song in monotone, "How many boyfriends do I have? One, two, three—"

A burst of laughter upset Reno's balance, and down he went, getting tangled in the disgustingly orange rope.

The hidden person came and stood over him as he angrily struggled to untangle himself, clearly enjoying every second of it.

Kisaragi smiled smugly, "Don't feel bad, Turk. That face is the downfall of all manly-men. She almost got Vinnie to play once. Boy, was that one of the best days of my life!"

Reno finally managed to free himself. He got to his feet, straightened his suit (well, as straight as it ever got), and lit a cigarette, then directed the Killer Turk Glare he'd perfected during his career at the ninja lurker.

"This shit never happened."

The fake-ass understanding nod he got in response was good enough for him. He strolled away. Besides, if the 'White Rose of Wutai' ever spoke of this unfortunate incident, he'd steal the Death Penalty and call her Anemia-suffering crush to tell him she did it. Word on the street (or from what he eavesdropped from Lockheart's conversation with Strife) was that Valentine was on the verge of going Old School Turk on her skinny ass.

"Hey Reno!"

He turned halfway. When the Wutaian stayed quiet, he sneered.

A grin spread across her face.

"How-many-boyfriends-do-you-have!"

The redhead made a gesture that definitely would've been face-punch worthy.

And Barret's kid answered for him.

"RENO HAS THREE BOYFRIENDS!"

* * *

**A/N:** If you're wondering how Marlene and Denzel spun a jump rope for someone Reno's height, let's just say it was a _very long _jump rope lol. Hope you enjoyed this drabble turned not-so-drabble-length oneshot :) It's longest by far because Reno is so fun to write. And torture. :D

Next chapter: Reno again!


	6. Babysitting the Turk

**Title:** Babysitting the Turk

**Rating: **T

**Genre: **Humor

**Summary: **Reno reluctantly keeps an eye on the Seventh Heaven for Tifa.

* * *

"...No, no, don't do that. I'll come and get her."

Tifa slammed the phone onto its cradle. That girl was lucky today wasn't a busy day...

Reno dropped on a stool nearby, drink sloshing onto the counter, "What's wrong, toots? Spike finally throw himself off that cliff?"

The martial artist absently tossed a dish rag over her shoulder. "Could you watch the bar for me? Thanks, Reno."

"Hey—"

"The number to reach me is on the fridge."

"Ya know, you don't have to fake an emergency to give me your number, babe."

"When I come back, forget it."

"Sure I will."

"I mean it, Reno. If you so much as crank call me after this, I'll snap your neck."

"S'okay," he smirked. "I _like_ it rough."

The Turk laughed as he dodged the towel Tifa threw at him and downed the rest of his drink. "Wait! Pour me another shot before you leave!"

"Sorry, bar's closed!" the martial artist called as she closed the front door behind her.

Sighing, the Turk hopped onto the couch lining the wall, folded his arms behind his head, and stared at the ceiling.

This place seemed so much lonelier without his beloved alcohol.

* * *

Just as his eyelids were drifting shut, Barret's brat popped up in his field of vision, upside down with a vibrant smile.

"Renooo, I'm really happy you're here! I wanna show you something!"

"Go to sleep, brat," the Turk drawled.

"My name is Marlene. And my bedtime is eight o'clock."

"So?"

"It's only five!"

"Your bedtime is when I say it is."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because isn't a sentence. Why?"

"Because _I said so_."

The kid looked thoughtful for a second, as though cataloging the conversation. Then she was running around to his side and pulling on his hand, "Come on, Reno! I wanna show you something!"

Reno played dead weight, "I don't wanna!"

Minutes passed of this exchange until Marlene stomped a tiny foot, pouted, and ran upstairs.

A slow grin found its way onto his face.

He'd be lying if he said revenge wasn't sweet.

* * *

Someone was poking his cheek.

Reno opened his eyes to meet a pair of determined brown ones.

"Hi."

"The hell you doing up? Go back to bed."

"I made you a drink."

And that was how she caught the Turk's undivided attention.

Spinning on the couch, he eyed the glass between her tiny hands. Of course, it didn't occur to him that 'drink' might have had a different definition to a first-grader.

He accepted the proffered beverage. Taking a sip, he was surprised at its decent taste. "Damn, where'd a four-year-old learn to mix like this?"

"I'm six!"

"Yeah, yeah. You ain't twenty-one, so I think I'll just confiscate this..."

And he did. Where the rest settled nicely inside his stomach.

"I made it," she announced proudly. "I named it Reno—"

"Now that's what I'm talkin' about!"

"—bear."

"Come again?"

"Reno bear. Cid and Cloud said that it was the best drink ever and then Tifa put it on the menu because it was the bestest drink. See?" The girl pointed to the sign resting on top of the counter.

Almost like one those horror movies where everything became slow motion, Reno rose and went to the counter, blood roaring in his ears. Sure enough, it was there. At the top of board—in ridiculously large, colorful print.

Which was explained a second later.

"She let me write it, too!"

Reno stared in horror.

Sex gods were not named Reno bear. Lady-killers were not named Reno bear. Someone as mind-blowing as he was _wasn't _named Reno bear.

If any of his co-workers saw this, he'd never live it down.

So he did what any self-respecting, lady-killing, mind-blowing, badass Turk/sex god would do. He erased the board.

_That kid is gonna be the end of me_, he yawned as he settled on the couch. In less than three minutes flat the Turk was fast asleep.

Marlene rewrote the board and then covered him with her moogle blanket. It was her bedtime too, so she snuggled beside her new friend and drifted off to Dream Land just as quickly.

And that was how Tifa and Yuffie discovered the lazy redhead and bubbly brunette when they walked in half an hour later.

"Really, Yuffie, this is getting old. Next time, I'll just let Vincent shoot you."

"But he's so fun to mess with!"

"Fun for whom? The person with premeditated murder on their mind or the one that has to bail you out?"

"Eh... me?"

Wearily, Tifa sighed. "Oh Yuffie, _tell _him how you—"

"Hey, would you look at that!" the younger girl interrupted quickly, calling attention to the two people sleeping on the couch. She pulled out her PHS. "Camera phone, don't fail me now!"

The older woman directed a hard stare at the shinobi. "Really?" she asked flatly.

"My line of business isn't all rainbows and unicorns, Teef." The ninja spotted the single glass on the coffee table and scoffed. "Knocked out after one drink? Gawd, he's a lightweight."

Tifa frowned. Reno could out-drink Barret, Cloud, _and_ Cid on any given day, even after having several rounds beforehand. Passing out after _one_ drink seemed beyond odd for him.

The martial artist picked up the glass, then sniffed the drink. Her nose wrinkled at the familiar odor. "Marlene made this."

"And that matters... how?"

"Beside the fact that she's a six-year-old mixing drinks? Well, it's a faux-alcoholic sleeping aid."

A week or two ago, Tifa had the girl make it for Cid when he'd started cursing and his curse-jar had already been full, and to Cloud when he'd talked about his motorcycle passed ten minutes.

She had to have memorized the steps because Tifa had been careful to only give her verbal instructions.

"I told Marlene to watch Reno while I was gone. She must have wanted to show him Cloud's and Cid's favorite drink."

She'd been very proud when the two men had praised her first try at the mix. Perhaps she shouldn't have let Marlene name the brew after all… or encouraged her by letting her add it to the menu (Amused at the beverage's namesake, Tifa had wanted to see how long it would take for Reno to notice the cutesy addition to their serving list).

Sighing, she made a mental note to talk to the girl about not using a particular ingredient of the recipe anymore.

"How much you pay her to watch the Turk? Thirty gil?" Yuffie grinned.

"An un-mastered Sneak Attack materia."

The ninja's mouth dropped open. "No way! You promised it to _me_!"

"Yes way, and I never promised it to you, Yuffie," the martial artist whispered pointedly, picking up an empty glass and carefully covering Reno and Marlene with the girl's moogle blanket.

Marlene snuggled closer to the redhead.

He snuggled back.

Tifa stifled a startled laugh. _Oh, they look adorable!_

"Yuffie."

"What?" the ninja replied, still sulky.

"Send me that picture."

"Yes, ma'am!" Happiness restored, Yuffie whipped out her PHS.

Tifa smiled at the beep of her text message tone. At least she got a new screensaver out of this whole crazy day.


	7. Marlene's Masterpiece

**Title: **Marlene's Masterpiece

**Rating:** T

**Genre:** Humor

**Summary:** Tifa witnesses the creation of a masterpiece.

**A/N: **A couple of chapters ago, **Maxxus Herald** had pondered why a drunk Reno was hiding in Tifa's cleaning closet. I finally worked in an answer for that XD

* * *

Tifa was in the middle of doing the dishes when a coloring Marlene chose to make the strangest announcement.

"I know a turkey."

The martial artist looked up from her dishwashing, nonplussed. "A turkey?" she asked.

"Mm-hmm. He's cooool." The little brunette slowed her motions and smiled. "We're gonna be good friends and he's gonna take me to the Golden Saucer and win me that teddy bear papa didn't wanna buy me. And then we're gonna play tag, because that's what cool people do!"

Well, the mystery of the 'Turkey Friend' was solved. Marlene had taken to using Yuffie's vocabulary and Reno was the only member of the Turks the ninja princess called a Turkey.

"What about Denzel?" the martial artist questioned, drying the last of the dishes and setting it on its rack. "Won't he be sad if you don't include him?"

"Denzel has cooties," Marlene declared.

Tifa smothered a laugh. Barret wouldn't be too thrilled to find out his little girl had chosen Mr. Conceited himself for a new friend.

"All done!"

The girl's exclamation was punctuated by her waving the coloring in the air.

A grin broke out onto Tifa's face when Marlene handed her the drawing to examine.

Amidst the Golden Saucer's game room, the girl wore a fuchsia leotard complete with tutu and ballet shoes while holding the teddy bear mentioned earlier. Next to her drawn self, Reno wore a powder blue tiara and held an array of rainbow-colored balloons. The accurate way he held his EMR over his left shoulder and his smirk, however, were the drawing's hallmark. She managed to make the Turk look cool despite wearing a bejeweled coronet.

"A masterpiece. There's only one place for this." The martial artist took the paper and walked over to the fridge. She placed a magnet on the paper, then smiled softly.

As long as he looked cool, Reno wouldn't protest its placement (much). The last few weeks, he'd mellowed out regarding the embarrassment Marlene and Denzel caused him every so often.

Tifa breathed a small laugh.

_I suppose when he isn't completely plastered and hiding in people's broom closets to avoid paying his massive tabs, he's actually a decent guy._

As long as Marlene didn't pick up his penchant for vanishing at the sound of a bill being written, their new friendship was fine with her.


	8. Ms Talkathon

**Title: **Ms. Talkathon

**Rating:** T

**Genre: **Humor

**Summary:** Elena unexpectedly receives leverage she never thought she'd have.

**A/N:** Tried to do the Turk's female member's character justice. The result was a longer chapter… you'll see what I mean lol.

* * *

"…I didn't know what to say, you know? I hardly knew the guy. I told him as much too. But he just stood there and said he wasn't going to leave until I gave him an answer. Eventually, I realized he wasn't lying, so I gave in. And that's how I ended up with that part-time job at Edge Food Mart," Elena finished her long-winded story as Tifa smiled.

"I _thought_ I saw a picture of you there for Employee of the Month. Would you like another drink?" the martial artist asked, holding up two of the blonde's favorite brands in either hand.

"Oh no, I've had my limit!" Elena laughed and waved her hands in the negative.

She didn't want a hangover for her morning shift as Rufus' guard. The president tended to be irritable when bodyguards of his that didn't usually wear sunglasses suddenly wore them during a shift. It was like he could still smell the Mai Tais (or harder liquor in Reno's and Rude's case) on them. Elena made the mistake of showing up to work with a monster hangover once. The second her sophisticated boss took in her shades he had decided an impromptu trip to 'check on' the oil-drilling progress in Corel's mines had been in order. Her head felt ready to explode that day.

She never, _ever_ wanted to experienced that again.

"Yuffie says you're a spazz. What's a spazz?" Marlene asked innocently, bringing the blonde from her thoughts.

A snort from Reno sounded the same moment Tifa's admonishing, 'Marlene!' filtered throughout the near empty bar. Warmth crept up Elena's neck and spread to her face, but her back straightened automatically. There were worse things she'd been called in her lifetime and those insults had been _intentional_.

The martial artist gave the girl a firm look, "Spazz is not a nice word. I don't want to ever hear you using it again. Understand?"

"…Yes, Tifa…"

Elena's heart melted at the dejected expression on Marlene's face, but it melted further when the girl's energetic coloring slowed to a half-hearted scrawl. She hadn't known the word wasn't nice!

Hoping to cheer up the girl, the only female member of the Turks picked up a purple crayon and opened one of the coloring books laying atop the counter. "Do you mind if I color with you?"

"I guess…" Marlene mumbled.

"You know, when I was your age—"

"They don't got all night, 'Lena."

"—I used to pretend I was a warrior princess," the blonde continued, ignoring Reno's lazy drawl. "Xena was the best warrior among her land. She and her sidekick, Gabriella, saved the power half-immortal Hercules and his own sidekick from death several times! I became a Turk because of her, you know. She showed me that women can do anything men can."

A snide 'feminist' remark cut off abruptly as Elena's canteen met with the commenter's head. She smirked at the string of curses that followed.

"That sounds fun," Marlene murmured, oblivious to the going-ons behind her. She looked up at the blonde Turk with curiosity and studied her. After a few moments, the girl blinked and said more loudly, "I like your suit. Can I have one too?"

An image of Marlene wearing standard Turk wear, shiny dress shoes and all popped into Elena's mind. That would be cute, no doubt, though she didn't think Papa Wallace would appreciate his daughter's choice of emulation.

"Why don't you ask your dad? If it's alright with him, I'll see what I can do about getting you your own uniform, okay? " Elena hedged. That way the option was still left to her parent and a bar brawl between the Turks and the gun-armed member of AVALANCHE would be safely avoided.

They were all still paying Tifa for the blown-out wall from their last fight.

The cheerful, energetic girl from earlier zipped back into place. She held her palm in the air and happily agreed, "Okay!"

"Stealing Princess Loudmouth's minion ain't smart, 'Lena," Reno warned.

"…" Rude chipped in.

Something Tifa told her about Yuffie training Marlene in 'sacred arts' came to mind. It couldn't hurt the girl to have another positive female role model to look up to, Elena decided. She and the martial artist should balance out whatever havoc the sneaky ninja's teachings caused.

Wiping the counter, Tifa voiced a distracted, "Bedtime, Marlene! Say goodnight to everyone!"

"'Lena," Marlene said, copying Reno's nickname and gathering her crayons and coloring book against her chest. "I like you," she commented softly, before quickly hugging her leg and then dashing upstairs. "Goodnight!"

"I like you too! Goodnight!" Elena called after her, a fond smile lifting her lips. The girl reminded her of her younger self—an only child, surrounded by adults and not having many friends her own age to play with.

The sound tiny feet running down the stairs had all Turks present observing the reappearance of the little brunette as she hopped off the last stair and made a beeline toward her favorite Turk and latched onto his leg. "Goodnight, Reno-bear!"

Amazingly, the redhead only patted her head. "Night, brat."

And the girl was off again. Done with her quick rubdown of the counter, Tifa followed after her. "I'll be down in a few minutes!"

A quiet atmosphere settled around them.

Elena turned to her redhead colleague and smirked, "Reno-bear, huh?"

"I don't see anyone else around here with a badass drink named after them, so shut the hell up."

The badass drink. Right. Reno mentioned it often. She, Rude, and Tseng had yet to see this mythical beverage.

Personally, Elena believed her perpetually disheveled friend had one too many to drink one night and had hallucinated the whole thing. Rude suspected, if such a beverage did exist, the complements about it were a cover for on the house service when Marlene took over the Seventh Heaven. Tseng didn't care. He only wanted his second-in-command to stop destroying their kitchen with his attempts to recreate the 'awesome' mix.

The blonde Turk leaned back in her stool, satisfaction unfurling inside. She finally had the ammunition to get Reno to lay off a particular joke he loved to make. However 'loving' he claimed it to be, Elena really preferred it if he stopped telling her to make him a sandwich every time she stepped foot in the kitchen.

And if Marlene happened to have any more sideswiping revelations about her ninja instructor too, Elena might finally get that free vacation to Wutai Springs that involved being waited on hand and foot by the descendent of shinobi.

Spazz wasn't a very nice name to call one's acquaintances, after all.


	9. A Rude Encounter

**Title:** A Rude Encounter

**Rating:** K

**Genre:** Humor

**Summary:** Rude makes a late night trip to Edge Food Mart.

* * *

Fifty-two.

That was the number of shades Rude went through (a year) as Reno's partner.

He often wondered how it was even possible for the redhead's foot to locate his sunglasses every single time they fell on the floor. The director had suggested Rude take out an insurance plan before, and after the sad shambles of his last set, Rude was seriously considering taking his advice. Maybe then he'd save the weekly five hundred gil he spent restocking his supply.

"Tifa, look! It's Rude-guy!"

Rude turned at the familiar voice in time to see Marlene Wallace skip across the long stretch between them. Her martial artist guardian slowly made her way behind her, fatigued and half-leaning on her basket.

The younger brunette paused before him, craning her neck up and rocking back and forth on her heels. "Hi, Rude-guy! Whyyy aaaare yooou hereee? I'm up passed my bedtime because Cloud took Denzel camping and it's too late to leave me home alone and Tifa needed some over-the-counter medicine because she got sick—I think it's Johnny's fault. He sneezed on her and then told her she needed to build up an uh-mu-nuh-ty, then she said, 'Oh yeah?' and punched him through the wall! _It was so cool_! Then Johnny climbed out from the store next door an hour later and said he was sorry for the bad joke—and I was tired but not anymore because I had some soda and candy from Yuffie's 'super secret stash' before we left! Ssh, don't tell Tifa!"

The girl took a deep and let it out in a 'whoosh,' seeming to come down from her sugar-induced outburst.

He felt sorry for the sick bar hostess.

"Can I rub your head?" Marlene asked after a beat of silence.

"..."

"Yuffie says it's good luck to rub bald people's heads."

"..."

"Why do you wear sunglasses at night?"

"…"

"Can you talk?"

He nodded, a sense of déjà vu creeping up on him. This was almost the exact way the conversation had gone when he first met Kisaragi. Eerie.

Marlene scrunched her tiny nose. "I'm bored, Rude-guy. Let's play hide-and-seek!"

Luckily, Tifa saved him from having to answer the perilous question. She slowed her cart to a stop and gave him a tired smile. "What brings you here so late, Rude? Late night chocolate cravings? Oh! Don't tell me Rick talked you into a job too?"

The stoic Turk held up a carton of milk. The President refused to eat his Trix without milk.

Well, they did have some back at the loft they were staying at, but his redheaded partner had drunk straight from the gallon, and their boss had a sixth sense about those kind of things. Thus the reason he was making a milk-run at two in the morning.

"Oh. I should probably buy a carton myself—" The usually radiant martial artist sneezed, then apologized, "Sorry, Rude…I'm not feeling too well at the moment. Do you know where the Dream-Quil is kept?"

He directed her three aisles away.

Thanking him and wishing him a goodnight, she gestured for Marlene to follow her.

Minutes later Rude found himself spinning a rack full of sunglasses, hoping to find some temporary ones until his customized order came in from Gongaga.

He internally sighed at the tacky selection.

Marlene suddenly appeared beside the stoic Turk with an impressive stealth, the tightened grip on the shades he held the only sign she startled him. Not many people were quiet enough to catch him off guard, he reflected, returning the item to the rotating rack. He'd have to use a level of vigilance he usually reserved for dangerous criminals and flighty targets when she hung around.

"I wanna help," the girl chirped, then grabbed a pair of sunglasses with daisies on the ends of its frames. "Try these ones on, Rude-guy!"

"…Not my style."

"Why? They're cute!"

"…Those are prescription…"

"Then… put on… these ones!" She brandished hideous, red, rim-horned frames.

"…My sunglasses can't be…bright," he lied badly, stretching his job's dress code. As long they wore the standard black suit and shoes, the President couldn't care less what accessories they added on. He could show up with a toupee tomorrow morning and receive nothing but a raised brow from the blond man.

Crossing her arms, the girl tilted her head to the side and tapped a foot. A small cry of triumph startled the worker down the aisle. Rude remained unshaken. Elena's random, explosive outbursts over the years had helped him hone his stoic veneer to perfection.

"You'll look good in these," Marlene nodded firmly, holding up a pair of circular sunglasses that old men sported straight in the air. "Papa has some _just_ like them."

He cleared his throat to cover his amused grunt.

Marlene dropped the old man shades and let out a wondrous gasp. "Woow…these are… perfect!"

Her tiny hand shot up and waved the newest choice around for him to take.

Rude took them. They were basically the same design as the sunglasses he usually used, except the lenses for these were mirror-like and the frames, onyx, instead of dark silver.

Not a bad choice…

"Yeah, Rude-guy, lookin' sharp!" the girl exclaimed, giving him the thumbs up that went with the saying.

Which reminded him… he'd need to Reno-proof them.


	10. Best Turk Forever

**Title:** Best Turk Forever

**Rating:** K

**Genre:** Humor

**Summary:** Being a complete workaholic is finally beneficial to Tseng.

* * *

Despite ShinRa's nonexistent state, there always seemed to be an overflow in paperwork, and as Director of the Turks, this never-ending job fell to Tseng. Although most of it dealt with Rufus Shinra's finances, there wasn't any other person with his expertise the President could trust to take care of matters. His colleagues complained whenever he'd work on projects after hours. However, nothing could be done. In order to stay on top of everything and be as organized as he was, bringing home his work home was a necessity.

On this occasion, he'd chosen to check such paperwork in a secluded corner of the Seventh Heaven while his fellow Turks enjoyed a drink at the bar counter.

He didn't look up as he said distractedly, "...I know you're there."

His observer's shadow blocked the light on the ledgers and paperwork spread amid the table he sat. "Hi, I'm Marlene Wallace! What's your name?"

"Tseng," the Turk replied, setting down his pen to gaze impassively at the girl.

"Oooh." She cocked her head sideways. "Wanna be my friend?"

"..."

"You got pretty hair. Can I play with it?"

"No."

She pursed her lips and placed a hand on either hip, eyes narrowed. The stance seemed remotely familiar…Of course. He'd seen Lockheart pose exactly the same days ago as she scolded Strife for forgetting to dispose of their trash in a timely manner.

A remarkably accurate imitation, he mused, noting the girl's impatient sigh as he made no move to alter his answer.

A light entered her eyes, then, and she moved one hand to tap her chin. The look she gave him could only described as calculating.

After several more moments of silence, she announced in a matter-of-fact tone, "You're gonna be my best friend, okay, Tongue?"

Tseng had a sudden, unsettling suspicion that becoming this girl's friend would not be… good.

"Reno wouldn't mind having a new friend."

His underling had an attention span of a three-year-old. He suspected they would get on exceptionally well.

"He's already my _favorite_ friend. He can't be my _best_ friend," she giggled (surprisingly condescending for a child) as though his suggestion was the most ridiculous idea ever.

Before Tseng could ponder the significance of that puzzling statement, the girl took the seat beside him. "What are you doing?"

"I am organizing my employer's finances." At her blank look, he simplified his vocabulary, "I handle my boss' gil."

Understanding lit her small features. "Oh! Does he have a lot?"

_Billions upon Billions upon Billions._ "That's a very personal question."

"It's okay if you don't wanna say. Not everyone has as much gil as I do." The girl slid off her seat and ran upstairs. She returned a minute later with a moogle-bank and poured its contents onto the table. "Look! I save all the gil Tifa and Cloud pay me to do chores. I was right, huh? I have more than your boss, don't I?"

He allowed himself a smirk. The difference between Marlene Wallace's and Rufus Shinra's finances was that the President's would not fit into a moogle-bank… or in the vaults of Gaia's largest banks. Combined.

"This one is a funny color…" she muttered, squinting at a ledger used for the President's personal expenses. Her eyes widened. "Wow, Tongue, that looks like a really big number! I don't think I can count to it!"

Frowning, Tseng scanned the ledger. His heart nearly stopped. Had this been given to their independent employee for this week's disbursements checks, Rufus' tailor would be the richest man on the Planet.

WRO would have lost its funding.

Tseng swiftly fixed the discrepancy, then uttered an appreciative thank you to the girl. Oblivious to the crucial mistake she'd caught, Marlene hummed a lullaby-sounding song as she dropped her gil back in its place.

The director allowed himself a small smile. Perhaps he wouldn't mind having a new friend.


	11. Commissioner Reef

**Title: **Commissioner Reef

**Rating:** K

**Genre: **Humor

**Summary: **Reeve offers to help Marlene with her latest endeavor.

**A/N:** Credit goes to **Maxxus Herald **for the idea of this drabble. It had to be written :D

* * *

Reeve didn't visit the Seventh Heaven in person nearly as much as he should. Cait Sith tended to be the form of communication between his fellow AVALANCHE members and himself. Fortunately, he'd managed to take the afternoon off and catch a lift on the _Shera_ to Edge for a social call with his friends.

The sight that met him as Tifa's bar came into view amused him beyond measure.

Marlene Wallace sat behind a wooden lemonade stand with two, familiar black suited men standing beside her. The fiery haired Turk on her right and his tanned partner on her left were silently relaxing, taking sips from their disposable cups every so often. A line of children ordered different flavors of the lemonade or juice and quickly set their payments on the table.

Reeve lined up behind the last child. In no time he was standing before the girl.

"Good Morning, Marlene."

"Reef!" The girl got up to run around the stand and hug him. "Tifa said you were coming today, but I thought it was gonna be Cait Sith," she smiled happily as she took her seat again.

"Yes, I _do_ do that a lot, don't I?" He gave a cursory look at her menu and chuckled, "I saw the posters for your lemonade business. Do you need any help?"

She shook her head, "Nope! 'Lena went with me to put up all my flyers and Tongue said he'll put all my gil into a savings account!"

Elena loved children, so naturally Reeve didn't think much of the blonde assisting the little brunette, though he _was_ a bit thrown at the mention of Tseng.

"Interesting," he murmured, because it _really_ was. Two members of Gaia's once most feared organization, the Turks, were helping the advertisement and finances of a first grader's lemonade stand.

Certainly an occurrence, if there ever was one.

"I would like an order of raspberry lemonade, please," Reeve said.

When Cloud had neither accepted nor declined his offer of assistance in Strife Delivery Service, Reeve had begun ordering packages through his one-man business. It was Reeve's way of saying thank you for the work the blond swordsman did for the WRO.

He thought to do the same for Barret's little girl.

Marlene became serious, "I.D. please."

Baffled, and somewhat concerned she might be spiking the drinks, Reeve pulled out his wallet and handed it over to the girl. With a grave air, she slowly shook her head and returned his identification. "I can't serve you."

Confusion increasing, Reeve asked, "Why is that?"

"You're overage," she answered solemnly.

"Overage?"

A nod. She pointed to the sign on the stand. Reeve searched for her reasoning and found it. At the bottom of the sign in fine, childish print was, '_Must be twenty years and younger. Drink responsibly._'

The girl's business ethics made little sense to him. Surely she would enjoy the extra gil an adult's patronage could bring? Reeve said as much.

Marlene blinked.

"They are well overage also," Reeve gestured to the two Turks sipping from their disposable cups.

"Reno-bear and Rude-guy like my lemonade," she said with a tiny shrug.

Reeve refrained from pointing out that he liked it too. It was quite delicious.

Reno crushed his cup and tossed it over his shoulder. "You heard the mini-boss. Twenty and younger. Sorry, Commish."

Reeve gaped.

Someone cleared their throat. He turned to see Rude point at another sign, one that read: _No Loitering_.

Reeve couldn't contain his shock. He was being… _handled_ by the Turks.

By order of a six-year-old.

He wondered if Cloud, Tifa, or Barret knew about this.

Dazedly, the Commissioner turned and walked toward the Seventh Heaven. So Reno and Rude were also helping Marlene with her small business… Now that he knew all of the Turks were involved, he wouldn't be surprised if he discovered Rufus Shinra was her 'silent backer.'

As he stepped through the doorway, Marlene chirped, "We can color later, Reef!"

After that episode, coloring sounded normal.

And safe.


	12. No Way Out

**Title: **No Way Out

**Rating: **T (That's probably overshooting it).

**Genre:** Humor

**Summary:** Cloud faces the most difficult question of his life.

**A/N:** I know a few of you wanted to see our favorite delivery boy again, so here he is!

* * *

"Cloud, where do babies come from?"

The blond swordsman nearly fell off his chair in pure panic.

Marlene and Denzel watched him intently as he regained his balance, never once taking their eyes from him.

_They're too young to be asking that! _I'm_ too young to be stuck answering it!_

Whoever put them up to this was going to feel his Omnislash. Ten. Times. Over.

"Why do you want to know?" he asked calmly, betraying nothing of his inner distress. Maybe after his final move he'd throw in a Knights of the Round for good measure…

"We heard Shera tell Tifa her and Cid are gonna have a baby!" Marlene explained.

Denzel nodded. "And Shera said she wasn't 'due' 'til five months—"

"—Then Tifa asked if she was gonna have it in Rocket Town or Junon—"

"—But Shera said she didn't know—"

"—So Denzel thinks that babies come from Rocket Town—"

"—And Marlene thinks they come from Junon—"

"—And we knew you would know, Cloud—"

"Where babies come from," they finished in unison.

The blond swordsman counted the seconds it would take to cross the room, open the door, and make a quick getaway on _Fenrir_.

Too long.

They'd be on him in seconds.

There was…

No.

Way.

Out.

"Well…" he began, trying to think of an explanation that would both satisfy their curiosity and avoid any _other_ curiosities. Then it suddenly hit him. "…You're both right."

"What!"

"How!"

Cloud mentally patted himself on the back as he ushered the two outraged children from his study and shut the door behind him. "Baby girl's come from Junon and baby boys come from Rocket Town."

Their eyes widened at the (fake) revelation.

"Is that why Shera can't choose where to have her baby? She doesn't know if she wants a boy or girl?" Marlene asked a second later.

Cloud rubbed the back of his head. "Uh, sure..."

"Cool! I'm gonna tell Shera to her to have it in Junon!"

"Uh-uh! I'm gonna tell her to have it in Rocket Town!"

The two children rushed to beat the other to Tifa's room, where she and the timid scientist were holed up, gossiping.

Crisis diverted!

Cloud wasted no time in escaping down stairs and pulling up a chair next to his pilot friend.

Cid took one look at the younger blond and snorted. "Ya look like crap, kid," he commented bluntly.

"You'd look like crap, too, if you went through what I just did," Cloud retorted. "Congratulations, by the way."

"The hell you yappin' about?"

"On the baby," the younger blond elaborated. "Marlene and Denzel filled me in on the news just now. You and Shera must be excited."

The bar was so quiet, the sound of a cigarette hitting the floor could be heard.

The thud of a pilot's body followed immediately after.


End file.
